New York

Everything has to balance itself out. As beautiful Manhattan can be, it is set with a circle of dumps. Manhattan deserves its fame though. And such a treat for human studies. I could just grab random faces from the cround and disect their lives, to lay out what drives them, what effects their life, their thoughts and experiences. Such a variety... I walked around Chinatown for an hour. I walked so far into it that eventually I was the only nonasian face. I have a great respect and admiration for their culture, by the way.
Chinatown is humangous. It eventually swallows you whole and for a second you forget you are in New York. There were fewer and fewer signs in English, soon the havos of smells and noise of minimarkets and the buzzing life around them becomes a part of you.

I read in a science magazine that blogging can be therapeutical. So here I am. For some reason it's hard to focus once I get to sit down and stare at the blank screen. During the day I have a million thoughts in my head. I wish I could just hook my brain to the processor.
Since nobody really reads this blog I can use it for storing the mess I've got in my head.
I've talked to my niece about day dreaming. She is the only person so far that I came across who easily retrieves into a different world. You know on a long bus ride (I had plenty of those ...) your mind levitates into a different place. It's similar to watching a movie in your head.
I wonder if there is anyone else who has this day dreaming attached to their daily lives.

should I talk about religion here?

I guess quite a few things in my life are tied to my religion: my views life, my plans for afterlife. I do hope strongly for the afterlife. Otherwise, what's the point?

a higher price

A greater happiness costs more. Like having kids. They wear you out, but then you lose yourself when they smile at you. To have such happiness parents put up with exhaustion. No happiness is given without a struggle. The bigger the joy the higher the price.

Healthy criticism

Nothing can survive without healthy criticism. Every organization needs someone taking it apart once in a while. I don't appreciate the obnoxious media, but we need them to keep everybody in check. And the more obnoxious it gets the more the conservative wing needs to balance it out. That's the beauty of free speech.
What about churches. In our church, for instance, criticism is often hushed. I agree that contention draws people away from the church. But the complete absence of the healthy criticism leads to the tolerance of various personal quirks that are often presented as the church policy.

goals and aspirations

Twice in the past two weeks someone asked me what my goals and aspirations were. My mind went blank for a moment. What are my goals and aspirations? Who knows... First time I wrote "I want my children to be righteous. I guess that's it. I am a stay-home mom. I don't have any career goals (for the moment). I still haven't figured out what my goals are. I am just so overwhelmed by taking care of the boys and the church calling, I did not take a moment yet to stop and reflect upon my life. May be I need to.

path of a worm

I saw a half-squished worm while jogging tonight. His one half was flat and dry, the other was already making plans for dinner. What a life... I can't explain why but in that second I have compared all my life with this worm. I laughed to myself. There were too many things in common. Each of us had a path, a purpose and a struggle. They just differed in size, but hey... being bigger doesn't make someone more important on the universe scale. One could really ponder the meaning of life. Watching that little guy squirming, trying to figure out how the hell to get going, muttering a few worm swear words under his breach, getting desperate, I felt for him.
I made a detour so I could see more of the sky (sunset, you know). The clouds covering the sun shone with gold, so rich in their color, I would made a condescending comment "Too much!", if it was someone's XVII century dining room. But who can accuse nature of being too generous on gold paint? I had to be a part of it. My half-squished fellow was a part of it too. Was it his as it was mine?
Anyway, just a glance at life... I wonder what's become of him.